


Strangers in a Strange Land

by Sappy3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:26:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6903970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sappy3/pseuds/Sappy3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of Goblet of Fire, Harry and Cedric don't stay in the graveyard to face Voldemort. They flee to a strange new world, by accident. How will they fare in this strange land? Can they ever get back? Follow these two boys' adventure in the land Clowichra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strangers in a Strange Land

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [thedra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedra/pseuds/thedra) in the [HPprompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPprompts) collection. 



> There is a slight alteration to the details of the prompt. See chapter's end-notes for more details.
> 
> Relationship-wise, there will be nothing romantic between Harry and Cedric. They're just companions. They'll grow close but their relationship will remain platonic.  
> 

Strangers in a Strange Land

 

Chapter One – Settling Their Differences

Harry took their surroundings quickly and exhaled in relief. Good. They weren’t in the graveyard. He wasn’t sure where they were. An English moor? It didn’t matter. Anywhere was better than that graveyard. They needed to get back to Hogwarts and find Dumbledore, but there was no rush. There was no one around. He wanted to lie down and close his eyes for a while. Rest was so tempting, now that the excitement was over. The Third Task and its finish took a lot out of him.

"What did you do?!” Cedric, meanwhile, was shouting at him. “You ruined everything. Now we’re really lost. I saw you casting on the Goblet. Don’t think I didn’t. Now look at it. It’s ruined. You destroyed the Triwizard Cup, for Circe’s sake!” He waved the blackened piece of twisted glass and metal, once the proud and beautiful Triwizard Cup, in front of Harry’s face.

Harry returned his angry stare. “We didn’t want to stay in that graveyard. It looked familiar to me. I think I saw it… in a vision.”

"A vision? Are you a psychic now?” Cedric asked disbelievingly.

"No, no. This is different.”

"Different how?”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

"You’re serious.” Cedric shook his head and sat down on the rocky ground. “All right. I promise. Now tell me about this ‘vision’ that stranded us here. Wherever here is.” He glanced around at the desolate, rocky landscape they were stranded in.

Harry took a calming breath. “Well, I have a connection to Voldemort,” He waited, as Cedric flinched and gave him the customary accusatory look. “And this past year I had a few visions about him. I recognized that graveyard from one of them.”

"Are you trying to tell me He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” He gave particular emphasis to the title. Harry sighed. “is back?” Cedric actually paled as the meaning of his own words actually sunk.

"Not exactly,” Harry rushed to reply. “Last year he regained one of his Death Eater servants and that servant is trying to bring him back, I think. He looks like an ugly little baby right now, as far as I can tell. I don’t know if he can even cast anything, wearing that form. That graveyard, I think they’re holed up somewhere nearby.”

"And why why would the Triwizard Cup send us to them? This makes no sense, Potter.”

"They must have an ally in Hogwarts.”

"So your evil baby has a henchman in Hogwarts as well? This is utter tosh, Potter.”

“It’s all true. Doesn’t matter if you believe me or not. Voldemort – yes I’m saying his name, Diggory, fearing his name only makes him stronger and I’m not giving him that power over me – has an ally in Hogwarts. How do you think I became a Champion in the first place? I didn’t do it. No friend of mine would do that to me. It was his ally that made me participate. To get me killed, or deliver me to Voldemort just now. And what about Krum? Can you account for what happened in the Maze? Voldemort’s ally put him under the Imperius Curse. That’s what I think.”

Cedric’s brow crinkled. “You’re saying You-know, fine, Voldemort,” Cedric cleared his throat. “was waiting for us in that graveyard?”

"That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Cedric was silent for a long time. “If you’re right, you probably saved both our lives. Are you sure these visions you have are not just weird dreams? Given you past, I can understand if you have nightmares about, well, Him.”

"I’m sure. It’s not like this is even the first time he tried to return. He possessed Professor Quirrell my first year so he could steal the Philosopher’s Stone and Ginny, of course, in my Second–”

“You-Know-Who was inside Quirrell?!” Cedric asked mockingly. He’d almost believed Potter there for a moment, but the notion that the most feared Dark Wizard of their time hid inside their stuttering former DADA Professor was just taking the notion to ridiculous places. He didn’t even want to hear whatever that was about Ginny Weasley. "And this Death Eater he has. Who’s he? Serius Black I suppose,” he asked, just for the sake of completeness.

"No,” Harry rejoined angrily. “Serius was never his servant. He was framed, by the real traitor: Peter Pettigrew!”

Cedric shook his head sadly. “Augh! You’re a conspiracy nutter.”

"It’s true!”

"You look like you believe all this.”

"Because everything I said is the simple truth.”

"I didn’t think you were a nutter before… but you do play Quidditch and you end up in the Hospital Wing after nearly every game and then some. You probably got a bludger to the head one too many time.”

"You play Quidditch too!” Harry retorted, outraged.

"I only ended up in the Hospital Wing once.”

"I’m not lying, Cedric. Everything I told you is true. It’s not my fault that I lead an ‘interesting’ life.”

Cedric waved his strong arm at him. “Enough. Sit down. I have to call for rescue. Embarrassing, but I don’t see we have any other choice.” He got to his feet and drew a rune above his head with wand. It dissipated to nothing in moments. Cedric cursed and repeated his actions more carefully. This time the rune lasted for a whole minute before dissipating.

"What’s wrong?” Harry asked him. “What’s that rune you drew?”

"Nothing’s wrong,” Cedric hissed at the smaller boy. Then he drew a deep breath. “Sorry, Potter. Didn’t mean to snap at you. I was having problems casting. I really don’t like this place.” He looked around. “It’s no wonder no one wants to live here.”

Harry nervously drew his own wand and cast a lumos. It barely lit up his face and it was an effort to cast even that. As soon as he relaxed his concentration, the light was gone. He wasn’t liking this place much either. He felt so powerless without his magic. So useless. They needed to leave this place soon.

Cedric made a third attempt at his rune. His hand reddened with the force of his grip. He drew the rune methodically in slow motions and finally gently pushed it up with his wand. It floated higher and higher and soon disappeared into the overhanging clouds above.

"Did it work?” Harry asked the other boy, anxiously.

"Lets hope so. It got pretty high before I lost contact with it. It felt stable. The rune is a distress call you cast when you’re in serious trouble, to answer your earlier question. It’s supposed to summon the Aurors to your aid.” He sat back down and rubbed his arms for warmth. “Though it’s their call how quickly they answer the summons. I put the ‘Lost’ suffix in it so they know we’re not in immediate danger.” He gave Harry an irritated look. “I told you to sit down. Might as well make ourselves comfortable in the meanwhile.” Harry reluctantly complied. His feet were starting to ache. 

Cedric examined his companion speculatively. “You know, I have to admit, your nutty conspiracy theories sounded quite entertaining. They were so ridiculous. We could pass the time with them instead of just wasting it twiddling our thumbs. Why don’t you tell me your big ‘truths’ while we wait? Try to convince me, I promise I’ll listen. Who knows, maybe you’ll make a convert out of me. Anything is possible. Or better yet, I’ll convince you you’re delusional and need help. It’ll pass the time if nothing else.”

Harry jumped back to his feet, bristling with rage. Why would no one believe him? “You think this is funny? I saved your stupid life back in the graveyard when I pulled us out of there. Laugh all you like. It just makes you a fool.” 

Cedric was on his feet as well, fists clenched. “Well maybe I didn’t want you ‘saving’ me. Maybe I was perfectly happy staying there and completing the bloody Third Task. I could be back with my mates and dad, celebrating my victory instead of here, with you, cooling my heels waiting for the aurors to come get me.”

The two boys stood there facing each other for a long while, not saying anything. Finally Cedric sniffed and retook his seat. He fished in his pocket and took out a hearty sandwich and a juicy pear. Glancing at the still standing Harry, he cleared his throat. “Want a piece?” he asked him, waving the pear at him.

Harry didn’t respond, even though the sight of food made his stomach grumble. He hadn’t packed anything for the Task. All he had with him were his clothes, his wand and a knife. If the other boy learned that, he’d think him stupid as well as a nutter. Instead he grabbed the Cup and sat with it some distance from the other boy. He was a dab hand at Transfiguration and Charms. He could restore the Cup. He didn’t want to imagine his Head of House expression if she saw it in its current shape. Harry concentrated hard. “Reparo,” he ordered the Cup. Slowly, ever so slowly, the shapeless lump unwound and separated into its original components. Harry kept himself focused on the image of the Cup in his mind. Yes, there were the three dragon handles. And there, the engraving ‘TRI-WIZ-ARD CUP’ distributed among the six glass panels. The hue. It must be right. And the touch. Not too rough, not too smooth. There. Harry leaned back, chilled and exhausted. What would ordinarily be the work of seconds had taken him minutes to complete. But the Cup looked like its old self, as far as he could tell. He grinned. The enchantments may be gone but it was the Triwizard Cup once more.

Harry glanced at his companion. Cedric smiled at him and gave him a thumbs-up. He seemed in a better mood. Harry found himself smiling back. When the other boy gestured him over and offered him a second pear, Harry accepted both gestures. “Nice job,” Cedric proclaimed, examining the repaired Cup.

They didn’t talk of weighty matters after that. Cedric amused them with colorful anecdotes about his school-mates and some harmless pranks they played on naive First Year Hufflepuffs. Harry, for want of a better topic since almost all his school-tales were linked to Voldemort one way or another, told the other boy about the Dursleys. It wasn’t hard to ridicule his three relatives. Dudley’s piggish appetites and low-brow bullish nature, Petunia’s almost obsessive-compulsive need for sterile cleanliness and utter terror of the rumor-mill, Vernon’s meaty hands and big mustache which lifted up at his puffing breath when he was enraged at him.

Cedric tried to keep his expression pleasant. It didn’t take him long to figure out that these relatives of Potter’s were a horrid lot that abused the smaller boy since the day they got him. He felt thankful that he had such devoted, loving mum and dad. Poor kid. Maybe he could talk with his dad about doing something about Harry’s situation when they got back. His dad worked in the Ministry and could surely petition the right departments to finally correct this wrong. Harry Potter was close to grown up but it would still mean a lot to him if he was given a caring guardian who’d give him a home where he was wanted, Cedric thought. It wouldn’t be hard to find volunteers for the task. He was the famous Harry Potter after all.

It was during a lull in the conversation that Cedric glanced up at the sky and frowned. He stood up and studied the sky in all directions. “Potter,” he said hesitantly.

Harry looked at him questioningly, trying to suppress his worry at the other boy’s subdued expression.

"How much time, do you reckon, passed since we got here?”

"A few hours?” He hoped Diggory wasn’t about to declare that the aurors weren’t coming.

"And it was afternoon when we entered the maze,” Cedric continued in his slow, hesitant tone.

Harry nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

"Wasn’t the sun there when we got here?” Cedric pointed at a brighter patch of clouds among the pervading cloud-cover.

Harry followed his finger. Diggory was right. The bright patch was still above that distant hill. “Maybe… maybe there’s a giant Will-o’-the-Wisp there?” he asked the older boy hopefully.

Cedric shook his head decisively. “There’s no such thing and besides, it should already be night.” He gestured at the sparse flora around them. “Do you recognize any of these plants? I don’t and I get O’s in Herbology.”

"Where do you think we are?” Harry asked him.

"The only thing that comes to mind are my mum’s fairy-tales about unwary travelers that got lured into strange fairy-realms. It’s just an old wives’ tale. There are no ‘fairy-realms’, mushroom-circles’ gateways or any of that hogwash.” He added, when Harry looked excited at his words. He gave Harry an accusatory look. “What did you do? What blasted magic did you perform to strand us here, wherever here is?”

"I don’t know. Honest!” Harry protested. “It wasn’t even a spell, really. It was like Underage Wandless Magic. I just wanted the Cup to take us away from that graveyard, as far away as was possible, to a place where Voldemort could not follow us. The Cup’s portkey enchantment was already active by then. The two magic probably conjoined in some manner to get us here. That’s all I know.”

Cedric glanced about them. “Looks like you succeeded beyond all expectations. Typical Harry Potter. We’re displaced so far, no one will manage to follow us. And we can’t get back. The magic here is so sparse we could never recreate the spell from here even if we knew how to.”

"I’m sorry,” Harry said.

"Just shut up, Potter. I can’t even look at you right now.

They didn’t talk after that. Each would rise, at times, and stare at the unchanging sky or examine some other feature of their surroundings, hoping against hope to find proof that their suppositions were in error. In vain. The landscape remain static, the light stubbornly stationary. 

It was obvious in retrospect, really, that they were no longer in Britain. No longer anywhere in the world they knew. The uneven, rocky plain extended in all directions with, here and there, small rises and depressions. There were no mountains. Only isolated, small hills, the lit one the highest amongst them. The rocks all around were sharp, porous and black, igneous-seeming in nature. Many were covered with patches of white and orange lichen. The graveled ground between them held little vegetation. The sparse weeds and occasional dark bushes between the igneous rocks didn’t look edible, though, in this place, who knew. There were no signs of animal life. Nothing moved. No bird chirped, no squirrel squeaked. Only the gusty wind filled the silence. There was no sign human feet ever trod this ground. The only anomalies in the monotone landscape, were the distant hill beneath the light patch in the cloud-cover and a dark-green area nearly in the opposite direction even farther away from them.

Cedric felt bad about what he said to Potter. Maybe he was too harsh with the boy. He was only trying to help, no matter how misguided he was and how disastrous the results turned out to be. But he didn’t want to apologize. He was still too angry at him. He might never see his friends again, thanks to the brat. His mum and dad. What were they thinking now? Mum would worry. Dad would put on a brave face for his mum’s sake but he would worry too. How he wished he could tell mum he was unharmed. That he would return to her soon. He stared daggers at the smaller boy. He had none of his schoolmates now to aid him and guard his back in this strange land he found himself in. No one at all except for him. 

"We should head out,” he abruptly pronounced.

"Head out where?” Harry said back after a moment.

"Towards the hill beneath the light seems like the best choice,” Cedric replied, still not looking at the other boy. There wasn’t much to choose from in this dreary landscape. There were only two choices, really, three if you added staying in place or walking at random across the plain: the little lit hill and the dark-green area in the other direction. He didn’t want to wander in the dark. 

Harry didn’t argue with him. He picked up the Cup and trudged along with him. The long rest had given the two a second wind. 

After a while, Cedric bit out, “Explain it to me. Give me a justification I can believe for what you did to us. You owe it to me.” He paused, his feet stomping the uneven ground in an angry beat. “You may not have a family that will miss you, but I have a mum and a dad. I had Cho,” he added, suddenly recalling his girlfriend. Cho will cry. She’ll sit with his mum and hold her hand for her. He missed them all so much. He felt uprooted. Bereft. 

Harry ground his teeth. Damn Cedric Diggory for making him feel guilty for saving his life. He did owe him an explanation, though. Even after he brought up Cho Chang. Did Diggory even know he was into Cho? Harry banished the thought. He wouldn’t dwell on Cho. Not now. Harry wasn’t used to explaining his ‘truths’ to people who didn’t already know them and thus, what came out was a disjointed mess. Diggory’s frequent demands for more detailed explanations of some point and clarifications of background details didn’t help. There was a lot to tell, Harry reflected sadly. He encountered Lord Voldemort rather a lot. He could fill books with all he’d been through. Some of it did sound ridiculous if you didn’t know the full story, he privately admitted to himself. Finally, some time after they passed the midpoint to their destination, Harry wound down and fell silent, feeling drained.

They’d stopped walking. Cedric muttered under his breath for a while. When he finally met Harry’s eyes, there was a new determination in them. “I’m not accepting your outrageous claims just yet, Potter, not by a far shot, but I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Your tales hold together and they do explain some of the odder events at Hogwarts these past few years and at the World World Cup last summer. You could still be a conspiracy nutter who spends all his free time polishing his conspiracies. I’d prefer it if you were, to be honest, Potter. If you’re not a nutter that would mean, Voldemort, is still prowling and plotting, back home. It would mean everyone I know is in danger.”

Harry sobered at that notion. Both boys were deeply troubled by it. They didn’t consider themselves heroes. They were just good Hogwarts students, superb Quidditch Seekers (if they do say so themselves) and, more recently, Triwizard contestants. But neither could stand the notion that they were safe while all their loved ones had to face Voldemort. That they couldn’t help their loved ones if Voldemort decided to attack. It ate at them.

But Cedric wasn’t finished. He had more to say. “Whatever the truth is, I still give you my thanks for trying to save my life from, from Voldemort. It doesn’t matter if none of what you say holds water. You believe it and you acted quickly to save us when you believed we were about to meet him. That’s a Life Debt in my books. I wanted to stay in the graveyard and see what’s there. You could easily grab the Cup and flee instead of leaping on my back so we’d both fall on it. That was brave of you.” Harry rolled his shoulders, self-consciously. Cedric spared him the need to reply. “We only have each other to count on right now. Until we get back, I think we can postpone the tournament competition. And our disputes. We need to trust each other if we are to get out of here. Which we will do,” he added with steely determination. “Lets shake on it.” Cedric extended his hand.

"Then call me Harry, not Potter,” Harry demanded.

Cedric hesitated, then nodded. “Harry,” he said.

Harry grasped his hand in his. “Cedric,” he returned.

“Together,” they both said solemnly sealing their truce.

They both turned to look at their destination. They were much closer now. Close enough to discern a settlement atop it.

  
0#0 0#0  
\--- ---  


**Author's Note:**

> In the prompt, it was Barty Crouch's faulty spell-casting that sends our heroes to places unknown. In my story it's Harry that casts a wild Wandless spell that, in conjunction with the Portkey spell hurls them to their destination.


End file.
